Warmup Wednesday!

Directions: Write a scene or an entire story of 100 words on the nose (no more, no fewer), inspired by this photograph. No judging. All fun. (Normal Flash! Friday guidelines regarding content apply.)
Don’t forget to add your Twitter handle & link to your blog, pretty please.

And a few words on how your week’s going — up, down, indifferent — please share!

 This week’s Warmup Wednesday challenge: on this day in 1846, Neptune was discovered. Work Neptune into your story in some way, whether the word, the planet, or the sea king.

Neptune. PD photo by Laughing Raven.

Neptune. PD photo by Laughing Raven.

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10 thoughts on “Warmup Wednesday!

  1. Singing a Different Neptune

    Neptunians, back in 2011, we completed our last full rotation of the sun. The trip was as slow as molasses. Hell, I don’t even know what molasses are. Whatever they are, they take a coon’s age to get anywhere.

    Just like Neptune.

    This bus is taking way to long. There’s no other way to say it, my people. 165 years to spin around the sun.

    Who lives that long? This old gasbag planet, don’t get me wrong, I love her. Maybe it gets a little windy.

    Let’s make Neptune great again. A few rockets…a new orbit.

    Give me your vote.

    100 astral politicians and the title
    @billmelaterplea
    http://www.engleson.ca
    I chair an agm tomorrow. Always a treat. Watched Colbert and Trump tonight. Maybe I fell under their spell.

  2. The Open Sea
    @carolrosalind
    WC 100

    Postcard perfect you always said, despite your Thalassophobia.

    Usually I’d meet you here, but today we’ve travelled together.

    Remember our hotel? You always insisted on room service, said you didn’t want to share me. We’d wait for dusk before strolling hand in hand along the deserted beach. You wore that silly hat.

    On hearing the news I rushed to your side but you’d already departed, leaving me holding only the truth.

    Now we wait for the Neptune to take us out to sea with the intention of scattering your ashes, it’s what your wife and I think you truly deserve.

    ******************************************

    Thalassophobia – fear of vast open sea, its distance from land and of the possibility of encountering sea creatures.

    Busy week – classes to attend, books to read, words to write.

  3. Sunrise in a Bar
    ~~~~~~~~~~~

    The boats clawed like wild cats on the sea surface with morning sunshine spilt milk crawling across thier prowling paths.

    Pisces ruled by two fish swimming in different directions that made it hard to catch them, but cats tried.

    Leo viewed woman from shore.

    She’s ruled by the planet Neptune. Known for deception, water sign that’s very emotional. He was a fire sign. He couldn’t get too close.

    He would watch till she was out-of-sight, then he would extinquish himself in her horizon;

    after 6 drinks he was ready to make his move.

    “Do you need a light?”

  4. Words: 100
    @CarinMarais
    http://www.maraiscarin.wordpress.com

    Upon Neptune’s Rock
    The statue upon Neptune’s Rock gazed out over the harbour as it had done for an age. White weather-worn rock still held the fine features of the woman in whose likeness it had been made. Some said the statue held a soul; that she guided ships home in any storm. In her stone hand she clasped a large orb of crystal which shone with a bright light of its own – a light as white as the moon. For all ages she would stand, legend said, just like she did on the night when she guided her lover’s ship home.

    ***
    The week so far consisted of writing some posts for Heritage Day (which is tomorrow), working on some blog posts for my own blog, and plotting out half of a short story. I also realised that it’s already time to start my prep for NaNoWriMo (this may include budgeting for jelly beans). Time passes so quickly and I don’t want to be caught off guard on 1 November!

  5. Mid-life Crisis
    @RefereeBall
    http://www.lightonthesubj.blogspot.com
    Spent the week trying to improve my writing level from third grade to fourth.
    WC 100

    Neptune assumed man size and trudged up the continental shelf.

    Frowning grouper, taciturn clams, un-lion-like lion fish. Seaweed and salt…everywhere. He needed a break from the doleful sameness of water world.

    He emerged from the Potomac, arms entangled in a section of rotting fishing net which, in turn, dragged a capsized garbage scow behind.

    After a quick visit to a men’s clothing store and a dash down Pennsylvania Avenue, he seated himself in the visitor’s gallery above the U.S. House floor.

    Partisan vitriol, intellectual vacuum, $17 trillion borrowed dollars and counting.

    He awoke from his dream, glad for the sea.

  6. Neptune Wishing He Could Watch the Sunset (A Silly Tale)
    @jamesatkinson81
    100 Words
    http://haberdasheryofstories.blogspot.co.uk/

    “Sunset is something I never get to see,” said Neptune to Mother Earth at one of their regular meets upon a Sicilian beach. “Helios must really excel himself.”

    “Oh yes,” she replied, “And not just Sunset, Neptune, he performs every morning, too.”

    “I wish these things I could see,” said Neptune sadly, “But, alas, in the depths at these times I must be.”

    “Then you must seek to take a different form, to take time out. As Zeus often does to fornicate.”

    “But as what?”

    “I don’t know – a dolphin? a whale? You’re the one who’s King of the Sea.”

    *

    All good so far this week – managed to wangle two free lunches at work today – had to do talks (one much more intense than the other) to get them. A quiz tomorrow, going to walk over the O2 in Greenwich on Sunday :S

  7. A Fish-Mother’s Song
    100 words
    @ecjlewis

    Rise early with me before dawn, little one,
    I’ll take you to fisherman’s wharf,
    Where there’ll be the glassy-still sea,
    Morning mist just rising.

    The moorings’ll empty one-by-one
    As the fishermen go to work,
    Barely a sound but the dip-splash of oars,
    Wavelets gently lapping.

    If we go early, while all’s still black,
    The Sea-King may grant us a wish.
    He’ll rise from the depths, trident in hand,
    His kindly visage soothing.

    For your daddy left with the dawn, my son,
    But dusk never brought him home.
    Soon you’ll be of an age for the sea,
    Always, I pray, returning.


    Getting back into writing this week, felt like doing something a bit different, I don’t usually try poems. Hope you like!

  8. Split Window
    ~~~~~~~~~

    The sound of rope and sail rattle the wind
    We try to tie something down
    That slips through our fingers
    Light and water tangle in reflection
    A mirror facing a spider web
    Lacing the air together with broken dreams.

    What king can save the blue Corvette
    Sailing on road that enters your realm?
    Slender forecast of plastic and dying coral
    Your connection to severed wheel
    To circle your head with smiling vultures.

    Lone swimmer on your acreage
    It’s either dawn or dusk
    The heart like a butterfly
    Flying the way you swim
    So much to push aside
    Fighting for dominion.

  9. The Muse’s Game (conflict, character, (worst poet on earth))
    wc 152
    Heather Murphy @junestar108

    The Muse’s Game

    Lucy and the poet stayed under the bridge as the last of the soldiers marched through the abandoned artists’ colony and made their way over the rough planks. He tried whispering into his V-pen about the terrifying sound of their boots on the ancient wood, but the triteness of his phrasing caused the thing to whistle. Cursing, he smothered it with his hand and shoved it deep into his pocket.

    “It’s still rejecting you?”

    “It’s not like that,” he told her, “the Coats probably hacked my V-file.”

    “They don’t want you inciting a riot on the supra-nets with all your scathing observations of their activities, I suppose,” she said, getting up from her rock to check the road.

    “Your sarcasm won’t help us,” he said.

    “Just admit it.”

    “Admit what?” he asked, looking her right in the eye.

    “It’s not the pen, it’s the fear.” She answered, gently, “It’s not poetic yet.”

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